Puttin' On the Ritz
by icydragonfire
Summary: 10:50 PM: The lights went out and Dark, looking like Death, only better looking, was reduced to hauling his suitcase across icy streets in a mission to reach Krad and free cheese balls and questionable movies...at the RitzCarlton


This used to be a drabble. But drabbles are hated. So here, with love, after a

long

long

long time away from the Internet

(hey, there's a cool new site called Yahoo!)

* * *

In case you don't know, there's a very nice drama I'm working on, titled Strawberry Wine. You can go look it up under my profile or something.

* * *

Warnings: A very lonely and therefore aggressive Dark, mild implications.

* * *

It was 10:50 when the lights went out, when Dark was trapped in the darkness of the shower with no more running water. All of his utilities chose that moment in time to stop functioning, and so, dripping wet and stubbing his toe in the gloomy murkiness of his townhouse, he gathered his belongings.

Packing only a toothbrush, pajamas, and a pillow, Dark stuffed these necessities into a large suitcase. Dressed in nothing but a bathrobe, he kicked open the front door dramatically-----oops, missed the front door, kicked the wall----and marched out into the snowing night.

Cabs whizzed by him, honking merrily, as pedestrians stared at an obviously crazy purple-haired man who decided to go traveling at night in New York City without real clothing. Dark was oblivious to these gaping gossipers, however, as he resolutely dragged his suitcase through slush and snow, ice and hail, intent (or hell-bent?) on reaching his destination.

Three blocks later, after making his mark and leaving suitcase tracks over the sidewalks, Dark reached the parking lot of the Ritz-Carlton Hotel. Here, limousines waited expectantly for doormen to welcome their prestigious occupants, all of which owned more stocks than God. (But then again, God doesn't play the stock market). Pushing past the doormen, the bellboys and the millionaires, Dark made his way into the plush lobby.

More people stared at him now, because it's not everyday you see a bathrobe-clad, suitcase hauling, longhaired hippie cross the marble-and-gold lobby of the Ritz-Carlton without getting tackled by 10 or so beefy security guys. But they'd seen Dark before, just not right after the shower looking like Death, so with caution, the elevator assistant led him up to the 9th floor.

Tugging/towing /yanking what seemed to others a very heavy piece of baggage, the aforementioned Death-like hippie stopped in front of room 910, much to the relief of an shaky older woman down the hall who had always predicted the grim reaper would come for her just when the soaps were on.

Ringing the doorbell with a frost-bitten (well, just half-frozen) hand, Dark traced the pattern on the rug while watching the bellhop just down the hall. He didn't trust bellhops, especially the one who'd run him over last year. This one was no different. He was gaping at Dark as though he was Christ reborn, not just a thief in need of some comfort.

The door opened, and Krad, clad in no more than a towel, appeared, sipping a cappuccino. "Good God!!" he cried, spilling the coffee. At first he'd though it was a homeless beggar. Then he actually looked through the curtain of hair. The owner of the hair now pointed to his head, apparently wanting more coffee dumped there to melt the inch of snow that had accumulated.

"Dark…?" Krad ogled the pale thief.

Dark said nothing more, just pushed Krad out of the way and continued dragging his suitcase into Krad's apartment.

"OWWW! Dark—you bastard---you ran over my toe! What the hell do you think you're doing? Did I say you could come in? Get out!!!!"

The bellhop watched with barely concealed glee as Krad and Dark played a tug-of-war, no, push-of-war, over the suitcase. Krad managed to get it completely out from his room with a lot of cussing and colorful language, while Dark stoically countered with a vow of silence the Catholic Church would have been proud of.

Finally, Krad pinned Dark against the neighboring wall. "Listen," he said very clearly and dangerously. "I have a business meeting tomorrow. I don't have time for---- (he glanced at the avidly eavesdropping bellhop) your little games. I need to sleep."

"Krad," Dark mumbled. "It's…snowing."

"So why'd you walk 3 blocks down here, huh? Can you imagine the headlines? 'Local hottie freezes to death'? DARK---!'

"You do care," Dark muttered, leaning in to kiss him.

The bellhop gave a scream loud enough to wake the dead and /or kill the living. Doors flung open. "What the---? I heard screams!" "Save the president!" "Aw, darn it, the soaps are starting!" "Oh no, I see the receptionist has finally met my mother…"

Krad tried not to blow up in front of all these prominent people. "Inside," he growled at Dark, who was only too happy to oblige.

* * *

Once Dark had raided the refrigerator, settled on a nice R-rated movie, and taken over Krad's bed, the blond sighed. (strangely patient, isn't he?) (have you ever seen Krad so patient?) (do you think it was something in the cappuccino?)

"Scoot," he said, and sat down next to Dark. Well, Dark could waste his time, but there was a business presentation tomorrow that needed seeing to. Propping open his Dell, Krad began working on statistics and figures. Because it was so much easier talking to Dark once he'd thawed, Krad waited a while.

"Why're you here?" he asked at last.

"'Lectricity went out. No 'unning water. I wanted to shwee oo," came the reply.

Krad missed it completely, due to a system shock on his laptop. "What?" he asked, waiting for the computer to recover.

"I wanted izza, you 'ave all the greatest struff, and I like your bed." He stuffed another cheese ball into this mouth. "Pass the 'oke, 'lease."

Krad barely caught what he said, concentrating as he was on the presentation. "That's nice" he said absentmindedly, having contacted another problem on the software. "Hand me a cheese ball."

After such needs were fulfilled, there came at least 15 minutes of contented silence, during which the R-rated movie moved forward at a nice pace, and while you could hear Dark chewing.

Then the movie came to a really boring part, and Dark stopped eating, having finished all the edible substances in Krad's possession. The only sound was the tapping of computer keys and the heater in the cozy apartment.

The bellhop, after lingering outside for half an hour waiting for more action (sneaky one), finally got his wish when, with a thud, Krad started yelling.

"What the hell were you reaching for?!" Krad screeched, clutching his towel protectively. He had leapt up from the bed and thrown his laptop to the ground.

"The remote," Dark said innocently.

"Did you have to reach---across my lap?"

"Yep. Actually, it was underneath you, but I didn't want to tell you to move…"

"Well, hurry up and get it! Geez, you scared me half to death, Dark!"

"What else would I have been reaching for?" Dark questioned, the same cherubic and blameless expression on his face.

Krad was uncomfortable saying it. "Nothing," he replied, sitting on the edge of the bed.

A few moments later, he felt hands on his back. "Dark," he warned.

"…A massage, sheesh…"

"I don't want a massage…"

"Just relax…"

Despite his protests, Krad did relax considerably. He actually forgot about it after a while and began working earnestly on his presentation. There were still 5 more slides to see to.

"…Dark…"

"Yeah?"

"That's enough."

Dark pouted, but his hands receded.

"…Dark…" Krad said again suddenly, a little afraid all of a sudden.

"What?'

Krad told himself to keep his eyes on the laptop. "Is that your bathrobe, by the TV?" _Don't turn around, Krad, that's what he wants you to do…_

"…Yeah…"

"So what are you wearing?"

"…You wanna see?"

Krad shut his eyes. "Put something on," he sighed.

"Ok," Dark said amicably. He grabbed hold of Krad's towel and tugged. "I'll be borrowing this."

Krad dropped his laptop. (No wonder its been spamming up) "Dark!"

Dark ceased reluctantly. "I know, the presentation…" he sulked. "You're such a prick, Krad."

"Well, I could get it done faster if you would just stop bothering me. Go to sleep, Dark, or watch your porno movie over there."

"…You hate me…"

"Maybe I do," Krad snarled. "And maybe, _just maybe_, it's because of the fact that you're sucking on my earlobe. That's very distracting, Dark."

"I know."

"And so is putting your arms around me."

"In civilized countries, Krad, they call this a hug."

Krad sighed. "And in your country, this is a sign that I'll never get my presentation done on time."

Dark playfully tackled Krad, and pulled him down on the bed. "How'd you know…?"

* * *

Daisuke woke up to a R-rated movie (who knew those things looped until you turned off the TV?) and a neatly smashed Dell. There was a post-it note on the dresser that said "Business meeting, 10:00 AM". Next to him, though for the life of him Daisuke could not imagine how he got there, lay a very deep-sleeping Satoshi.

Then he looked at the suitcase by the door with all of its unused items, and the evening rushed back to him (fortunately not the details). Groaning, blushing, he jumped off the bed, muttering words a 14-year old should not know. He pondered a second on what he should do. It was obvious that Satoshi would not waken for quite a while, yet if they moved quickly, they could get him ready for the meeting. But there was a thing that had to be done before Hiwatari woke and started asking questions.

Daisuke picked up the phone and called the front desk, using his best courtesy voice. "Ummm…we have a accident----no, a spill----I found a stain on the bed, and----well---NO, sorry, it has to be taken care of right away …(awkward laugh) Thank you, but all I need is… Could you send someone up here to burn the sheets?"

* * *

...why does your document look so crappy on Document preview and even crappier when you see it as a real story?... 


End file.
